(Night. Outside a spooky old mansion. Car radio is playing Christmas songs.
We hear Bing Crosby's version of "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas".
We see that it is MULDER's radio. SCULLY drives up beside him. They both
roll down their power windows.)

BING CROSBY: Have yourself a merry little Christmas let yourself be light
From now on, our troubles will be out of sight....

MULDER: (happy to see her) I almost gave up on you.

SCULLY: Sorry. Checkout lines were worse than rush hour on the 95.
If I heard "Silent Night" one more time I was going to start taking hostages.
What are we doing here?

MULDER: Stakeout.

SCULLY: On Christmas Eve?

MULDER: It's an important date.

SCULLY: No kidding.

MULDER: Important to why we're here. Why don't you turn off your car
and I'll fill you in on the details.

SCULLY: Mulder, call it what you want. I've got holiday cheer to spread.
I've got a family roll call under the tree at 6:00 a.m.

(MULDER locks her door.)

MULDER: I'll make it fast. I'll just give you the details.

SCULLY: Okay.

MULDER: (mysteriously) Christmas, 1917. It was a time of dark,
dark despair. American soldiers were dying at an ungodly rate in a
war-torn Europe while at home, a deadly strain of the flu virus attacked
young and old alike. Tragedy was a visitor on every doorstep while a
creeping hopelessness set in with every man, woman and child.
It was a time of dark, dark despair.

SCULLY: (not impressed) You said that.

MULDER: But here at 1501 Larkspur Lane for a pair of star-crossed
lovers tragedy came not from war or pestilence-- not by the boot heel
or the bombardier-- but by their own innocent hand.

SCULLY: Go on.

MULDER: His name was Maurice. He was a... a brooding but heroic
young man beloved of Lyda, a sublime beauty with a light that seemed
to follow her wherever she went. They were likened to two angels
descended from heaven whom the gods could not protect from the
horrors being visited upon this cold, grey earth.

SCULLY: And what happened to them?

MULDER: Driven by a tragic fear of separation they forged a lovers' pact
so that they might spend eternity together and not spend one precious
Christmas apart.

SCULLY: They killed themselves?

MULDER: And their ghosts haunt this house every Christmas Eve.

(SCULLY laughs.)

MULDER: I just gave myself chills.

SCULLY: It's a good story, Mulder... And very well told but I don't
believe it.

MULDER: You don't believe in ghosts?

SCULLY: That surprises you?

MULDER: Well... Yeah. I thought everybody believed in ghosts.

SCULLY: Mulder, if it were any other night I might let you talk me into
it but the halls are decked and I got to go.

(SCULLY gets out of the car and heads for her car.
MULDER also gets out and heads for the house.)

MULDER: My best to the family.

SCULLY: What are you doing? Mulder, don't you have somewhere to be?

MULDER: I'm just going to take a look.

SCULLY: (alone, to herself) I'm not going to do it. My New Year's
resolution.

(SCULLY checks her pockets. No keys. She looks in MULDER's car.
No keys. She looks in her car. No keys.)

(Sound of door creaking as MULDER enters the house. He turns on
his flashlight and shines it around the foyer. Thunder rumbles as
SCULLY follows him into the house.)

SCULLY: Mulder!

MULDER: Change your mind?

SCULLY: Did you take my car keys?

MULDER: No.

SCULLY: Come on, Mulder. Don't kid around.

MULDER: Why would I take your car keys?

SCULLY: Maybe you, uh... Maybe you grabbed them by mistake.

MULDER: Maybe it was a ghost.

(They both look up at the knocking sound above them, then over at the
clock chiming in the foyer. Note the name on the clock: J. Cameron.
Cute "Titanic" ref. Sound of wind blowing.)

MULDER: That's a cold wind.

SCULLY: There must be a window open upstairs. You know, the weather
report said that there was an 80 percent chance of rain maybe even a...
maybe even a white Christmas.

(Sound of thunder crashing. Front door slams shut. SCULLY runs to try
to open them. They do not budge.)

Opening Credits.
Mulder … Whooo.
Scully Rocks.

(Same scene.)

MULDER: I think the spirits are among us.

SCULLY: (still trying the doors) Mulder, will you quit trying to scare
me and help me get these doors open.

MULDER: Sounds like there's somebody walking around upstairs.

(More knocking upstairs.)

MULDER: There. You hear that?

SCULLY: Mulder, I really have to go.

MULDER: There's nothing to be afraid of.

SCULLY: I'm not afraid, okay?

MULDER: Ghosts are benevolent entities.

(Sound of chains clanking from above.)

MULDER: Mostly.

SCULLY: You are not scaring me, Mulder.

(SCULLY checks her watch. 11:03. She looks at the clock in the hall.
It also reads 11:03.)

SCULLY: Look, I really have to get home.

(MULDER starts up the stairs leaving SCULLY alone. Lightening flashes
showing her the silhouette of a figure next to the window. When the
lightening flashes again, the figure is gone. SCULLY follows MULDER.)

SCULLY: Mulder...

MULDER: Shh! What was that?

(The knocking stops.)

SCULLY: These are tricks that the mind plays. They are ingrained
cliches from a thousand different horror films. When we hear a sound,
we get a chill. We-we see a shadow and we allow ourselves to imagine
something that an otherwise rational person would discount out of hand.
The whole... Mulder...? (follows him up to the second floor) The whole
idea of a benevolent entity fits perfectly with what I'm saying. That a spirit
would materialize or return for no other purpose than to show itself is silly
and ridiculous. I mean, what it really shows is how silly and ridiculous we
have become in believing such things. I mean, that... That we can ignore
all natural laws about the corporeal body- (MULDER tries a locked door)
that-that we witness these spirits clad in-in their own shabby outfits with
the same old haircuts and hairstyles never aging, never... Never in search
of more comfortable surroundings-- it actually ends up saying more about
the living than it does about the dead.

MULDER: (trying another locked door) Mm-hmm.

SCULLY: I mean, Mulder, it doesn't take an advanced degree in
psychology to understand the... the unconscious yearnings that these
imaginings satisfy. You know, the-the longing for immortality the hope
that there is something beyond this mortal coil- (MULDER tries another
locked door) that-that we might never be long without our loved ones.
I mean, these are powerful, powerful desires. I mean, they're the very
essence of what make us human. The very essence of Christmas, actually.

(They both turn as a door creaks as it opens slightly by itself.
A light is on in the room behind it.)

MULDER: Tell me you're not afraid.

SCULLY: All right. I'm afraid... but it's an irrational fear.

(SCULLY takes a few breaths, then heads for the cracked open door.)

MULDER: (not moving) I got your back.

SCULLY: (whispers) Thank you.

(SCULLY pushes the door open and looks inside.)

SCULLY: Mulder, did it occur to you that there aren't ghosts here but
that somebody actually might be living in this house?

MULDER: No one lives here.

SCULLY: But when you and I were sitting out in the car there was not a
light on. And look at this.

(MULDER and SCULLY walk into an elegant turn of the century two story
library. There is a ladder leading down to the lower level. Furniture is covered
with white cloth. Chandelier. Great harpsichord music.)

MULDER: Must have been some kind of electrical surge.

SCULLY: Mulder, did you happen to notice the clock downstairs is
keeping perfect time?

MULDER: Is it?

SCULLY: And how do you explain that?

(Indicates smoking fireplace. They go down the ladder to the fireplace.)

SCULLY: This fire has just gone out.

MULDER: Yeah.

SCULLY: Don't look so disappointed.

MULDER: Why would anyone want to live in a cursed house?

SCULLY: Mulder, it's not enough that it's haunted? It has to be cursed?

MULDER: Every couple that's ever lived here has met a tragic end.
Three double murders in the last 80 years. All on Christmas Eve.

(From above there is the sound of a door slamming and a thumping.)

MULDER: Whoa... There's that sound again

(They look down at the floor boards which are creaking. MULDER moves
the furniture out of the way and puts his ear down to the floor. The doors
to the library creak. SCULLY looks up at them, then notices that the
ladder to the upper level of the library is missing.)

SCULLY: Mulder?

(SCULLY turns back to MULDER who has gotten up from the floor and is
holding the flashlight under his chin in the classic "scare the bejeebees
out of your little sister/friend" pose. It works. SCULLY turns and screams
and he screams back at her.)

SCULLY: That's not funny!

MULDER: (chuckling) I think there's a hiding space under the floorboards.

SCULLY: What are you going to do?

MULDER: There may be somebody trapped under there.

SCULLY: Mulder, don't.

MULDER: I got to get them out.

SCULLY: Not now.

MULDER: Hey, you have a gun, right? Rationally, you've been in much
more dangerous situations.

(MULDER begins pulling up floor boards. Exposes a very dead man.)

MULDER: I was half right.

SCULLY: Oh, my God.

(MULDER keeps pulling up boards, exposes another body.)

MULDER: Hey, Scully... Look at this.

SCULLY: It's a woman.

(SCULLY shines her flashlight on the two very decomposed corpses.
Woman appears to have a bullet wound in her belly, man a wound in
his chest.)

SCULLY: Mulder, it looks like they were shot to death.

MULDER: Yeah.

SCULLY: You know what's weird?

MULDER: What?

SCULLY: Mulder, she's wearing my outfit.

(SCULLY and the female corpse are both wearing a white blouse and
black jacket.)

MULDER: How embarrassing.

SCULLY: Yeah, well, you know what? He's wearing yours.

(MULDER checks what he's wearing- white T-shirt and leather jacket.)

MULDER: Oh... Scully...

SCULLY: That's us.

(They run out of the room and into … the library again. Great flashlight
sequence, shining opposite directions, then over each other.)

MULDER: (realizing) Hey, Scully...

SCULLY: This is the same room.

(They try again, and enter the library again. They still see the dead
bodies.)

MULDER: All right. I'm beginning to... Get this.

SCULLY: You go through that door and I...

MULDER: I should come out... This door.

SCULLY: Right.

(MULDER crosses to the opposite end of the room and exits into the
library again. SCULLY waits for him to enter the door next to her,
but he doesn't. They are separated.)

SCULLY: Mulder!

MULDER: Scully!

(Doors slam between them. MULDER crosses to the door that just closed.
He goes through it into the library again. The room is empty.)

MULDER: Scully!

(Commercial 1.)

(Same scene continued. MULDER is banging on the door trying to
connect with SCULLY.)

MULDER: Hey, Scully. Scully, can you hear me?

(MULDER shoots the lock off the door, then opens it only to find that
the doorway has been bricked up. He turns to see MAURICE, an older
man wearing a hat standing in the room.)

MULDER: Hey! Who are you?

MAURICE: That's a question I should be asking being this is my house
you're standing in. This isn't one of those home invasions, is it?

MULDER: No.

MAURICE: Good. Would you like me to show you the door?

MULDER: That's very funny.

MAURICE: I wasn't making a joke.

MULDER: Have you looked at the door?

MAURICE: Uh-huh, I'm looking at it now.

MULDER: Tell me what you see.

MAURICE: I see a door with the lock shot off it. You going to pay for
that?

MULDER: That's a door with a brick wall behind it.

MAURICE: (disbelieving) Okay, sure.

MULDER: You're playing tricks on me.

MAURICE: If I am, I'm sorry but I don't know any tricks.

MULDER: Yeah? That's a trick in itself, isn't it? You've been playing
tricks on us since we got here.

MAURICE: Am I to take it we're not alone?

(MULDER chuckles.)

MULDER: Ah, that's very funny coming from a ghost.

MAURICE: ( laughs heartily ) Yeah, oh... the gun fooled me a little at first.
You're a ghost hunter, huh? And you think I'm a ghost, huh? I've seen a lot
of strange folks coming around here with a lot of strange equipment but I
think you must be the first I've seen come armed.

MULDER: Strange folks?

MAURICE: Mm-hmm.

MULDER: Like those folks under the floorboard

(MULDER turns and shines his light on the floor, but the corpses are missing,
the floor untouched.)

MULDER: How did you do that?

MAURICE: I didn't do anything.

MULDER: There were corpses here-- bodies buried under the floorboards.

MAURICE: Why don't you have a seat, son.

(Short time later. MULDER is sitting with his face in his hands.)

MAURICE: You drink? Take drugs?

MULDER: No.

MAURICE: Get high?

MULDER: No.

MAURICE: Are you overcome by the impulse to make everyone believe you?

(MULDER looks up at him in surprise.)

MAURICE: I'm in the field of mental health. I specialize in disorders and
manias related to pathological behavior as it pertains to the paranormal.

MULDER: Wow. I didn't know such a thing existed.

MAURICE: My specialty is in what I call soul prospectors-- a crossaxial
classification I've codified by extensive interaction with visitors like yourself.
I've found you all tend to fall into pretty much the same category.

MULDER: And what category is that?

MAURICE: Narcissistic, overzealous, self-righteous egomaniac.

MULDER: That's a category?

MAURICE: You kindly think of yourself as single-minded but you're prone
to obsessive compulsiveness workaholism, antisocialism... Fertile fields for
the descent into total wacko breakdown.

MULDER: I don't think that pegs me exactly.

MAURICE: Oh, really? Waving a gun around my house? Huh?
Raving like a lunatic about some imaginary brick wall?

(MULDER looks over at … the brick wall in the doorway.)

MAURICE: You've probably convinced yourself you've seen aliens.
You know why you think you see the things you do?

MULDER: Because I have seen them?

MAURICE: 'Cause you're a lonely man. A lonely man chasing
paramasturbatory illusions that you believe will give your life meaning
and significance and which your pathetic social maladjustment makes
impossible for you to find elsewhere. You probably consider yourself
passionate, serious, misunderstood. Am I right?

MULDER: "Paramasturbatory"?

MAURICE: Most people would rather stick their fingers in a wall socket
than spend a minute with you.

MULDER: All right, now just, uh... Just back off for a second.

MAURICE: Spend every Christmas this way... Alone?

MULDER: (confident) I'm not alone.

MAURICE: More self-delusion.

MULDER: No, I came here with my partner.
She's somewhere in the house.

MAURICE: Behind a brick wall?

(MULDER smiles and nods.)

MAURICE: How'd you get her to come with you? Steal her car keys?

(MULDER drops his smile.)

MAURICE: You know why you do it-- listen endlessly to her droning
rationalizations. 'Cause you're afraid. Afraid of the loneliness.
Am I right?

MULDER: I'd just like to find my partner.

MAURICE: Good... Easy. Piece of cake.

(MAURICE gets up and walks through the clear doorway.
He turns back to face MULDER.)

(MULDER gets up and starts to walk through the now clear doorway.
He runs into an invisible wall which we quickly perceive as the brick
wall again. MAURICE is now out of sight. MULDER turns to see the
now dark library which quickly cuts to SCULLY's version of the library.)

SCULLY: Mulder?

(SCULLY backs away from the locked door then turns and screams when
she sees LYDA, an older woman dressed in a long white dressing gown.
LYDA screams back. SCULLY frantically tries to get her gun out of the
holster at the small of her back, but is shaking so badly she can't get
hold of it.) [CarriK: Very funny scene.]

LYDA: No, no, please, I won't hurt you.

SCULLY: I'm a federal agent! I'm armed.

LYDA: (turning on lights) You're what?

SCULLY: (finally getting her gun out) I'm armed.

LYDA: You said...

SCULLY: (gun shaking) I'm armed.

LYDA: You're a federal agent?

SCULLY: Please, I'm a little on edge. Don't come any closer.
My name is Special Agent Dana Scully. And, uh, I can... I can
show you my I.D.

LYDA: My goodness, I... I thought you were a ghost.

SCULLY: I can assure you that I'm not. I, uh, I got stuck in this room
looking for my partner.

LYDA: Oh, the gangly fellow with the distinguished profile.

SCULLY: You've seen him?

LYDA: With you in the foyer. I thought he was a ghost, too.

SCULLY: Oh... That was you.

LYDA: I sleepwalk sometimes. I thought maybe I'd dreamed it.
But then here you were again.

SCULLY: (catching her breath) I am sorry... I'm sorry. I didn't mean
to scare you. I, uh... It's just that we found bodies.

LYDA: Bodies... Where?

SCULLY: Right...

(The floor is untouched.)

LYDA: You look like you saw a ghost. There are ghosts in this house,
you know.

SCULLY: (raising gun again) Who are you?

LYDA: I live here, thank you very much.

SCULLY: Where's my partner?

LYDA: Why are you pointing that gun?

SCULLY: There were corpses right there underneath the floor!

(LYDA chuckles.)

LYDA: I think maybe the ghosts have been playing tricks on you.

SCULLY: I don't believe in ghosts.

LYDA: Then what are you doing here?

SCULLY: It's my partner.

LYDA: He believes in ghosts?

SCULLY: Yeah.

LYDA: Oh, you poor child. You must have an awful small life.
Spending your Christmas Eve with him... Running around chasing
things you don't even believe in.

SCULLY: Don't come any closer.

LYDA: (coming closer) I can see it in your face... The fear...
The conflicted yearnings... A subconscious desire to find fulfillment
through another. Intimacy through co-dependency.

SCULLY: What?

LYDA: Maybe you repress the truth about why you're really here
pretending it's out of duty or loyalty-- unable to admit your dirty little secret.
Your only joy in life is proving him wrong.

SCULLY: You don't know me. And you don't live here.
This isn't your house.

LYDA: You wouldn't think so, the way I'm being treated.

SCULLY: Well, then why is all the furniture covered?

LYDA: We're having the house painted.

SCULLY: Well then where's your Christmas tree?!

LYDA: We're Jewish. Boo.

(SCULLY turns as MAURICE enters the room.)

SCULLY: Hold it right there. Don't make me shoot you.
Stay where you are.

MAURICE: We really attract them, don't we?

SCULLY: Where's Mulder?

MAURICE: Mulder? Is that his name?

SCULLY: Where is he?

MAURICE: He'll be along.

SCULLY: Move over there.

(They just look at her.)

SCULLY: (trying to sound authoritative) Both of you, move.
Move over there. Move other there.

MAURICE: This violates our civil rights. I have friends at the ACLU.

SCULLY: Put your hands up.

(They do. LYDA has a gunshot hole through her abdomen. SCULLY
stares at her, then walks over to MAURICE and lifts his hat. There is
a gunshot hole through is head. Camera pans to show her looking
through the hole, then SCULLY faints. LYDA and MAURICE put their
hands down.)

MAURICE: You see what we've resorted to? Gimmicks and cheap tricks.
We used to be so good at this.

LYDA: We used to have years to drive them mad. Now we get one night.

MAURICE: This pop psychology approach is crap. All it does is annoy them.
When's the last time we actually haunted anyone?

LYDA: When was the last time we had a good double murder?
Not since the house was condemned.

MAURICE: This is embarrassing-- amateur kid stuff.

LYDA: Look, if we let our reputations slip they're going to take us off the
tourist literature. Last year no one even showed up.

MAURICE: Oh, of all days, why did you pick Christmas?
Why not Halloween?

LYDA: (grabbing him by the lapels) Now, who is filled with
hopelessness and futility on Halloween? Christmas comes but
once a year.

MAURICE: You're right. These two do seem pretty miserable.
We need to show them just how lonely Christmas can be.

LYDA: Now that's the old Yuletide spirit.

(They kiss and begin laughing.)

(Commercial 2.)

(MULDER's version of the library. Flashlight in his mouth, MULDER
is straining to pull himself up to the upper level of the library. LYDA
watches from the lower level. Just as he gets up, LYDA enters the
upper level.)

LYDA: Are you Agent Mulder?

MULDER: Who are you, now?

LYDA: What are you doing using my chair for a ladder?

MULDER: I'm trying to get out of this room.

LYDA: Trying to get out?

MULDER: Excuse me.

LYDA: No, no. You can't get out that way.

(MULDER hesitates, then pokes her in the shoulder. She is solid.
He pushes her against the wall.)

LYDA: Masher.

MULDER: Frump.

(MULDER opens the door and is confronted by another brick wall.)

LYDA: I don't know who you're calling a frump but I don't appreciate that--
being manhandled, or called names. Certainly not at this hour.

MULDER: You're a ghost.

LYDA: Oh, more names!

(They go down the suddenly reappeared ladder to the chairs on the lower
level.)

MULDER: What happened to the star-crossed lovers?

LYDA: Oh, let me tell you the romance is the first thing to go.

MULDER: (realizing) It's you. You're Lyda, and that was Maurice.
But you've aged.

LYDA: I hope your partner finds you a lot more charming than I do.
(prances to bookcase) Let's see. Where is it?

(LYDA mutters as, by themselves, books pull out of bookcase.
MULDER is fascinated.)

LYDA: No, no, no, no... (continues muttering ) there it is. (selects a
book - The Ghosts Who Stole Christmas) I was young and beautiful once,
just like your partner. Whoo! Look at us. Maurice was so handsome.
(fire blazes up) He didn't have a gut.

(She hands MULDER the book which has a picture of an attractive couple
in it - chapter title - Tale of the Star Crossed Lovers.)

LYDA: I hope you're not expecting any great advantages to all this.

MULDER: To all what?

LYDA: I'm assuming you came here with similar misconceptions.

MULDER: We came here looking for you.

LYDA: Oh, yeah? You didn't come here to be together for eternity?

MULDER: (chuckling) No.

LYDA: Because you're filled with despair and woeful Christmas
melancholy?

MULDER: Why?

LYDA: (sighing) Maybe it was your partner then.

MULDER: (crossing his arms over his chest) What about her?

LYDA: You knew this house was haunted.

MULDER: Yeah.

LYDA: Maybe you two should have discussed your real feelings before
you came out here. I'm speaking from experience.

MULDER: What experience?

LYDA: I'm not going to get into semantics. A murder-suicide is all about
trust.

MULDER: I thought you had a lovers' pact.

LYDA: (laughs) Poetic illusions aside, the outcome, Mulder, is pretty
much the same.

(LYDA stands and holds open her robe exposing the bullet wound.)

MULDER: (shocked) Oh...!

LYDA: I don't show my hole to just anyone.

MULDER: (rather disgusted) Why are you showing it to me?

LYDA: It isn't like you're going to be eating any Christmas ham, is it?

MULDER: Oh, you're trying to tell me that Scully's going to shoot me.
Scully is not going to shoot me.

LYDA: Suit yourself, but if you shoot first, for her, the rest is an act of
faith.

MULDER: I wouldn't shoot her.

LYDA: Maybe she shoots herself.

MULDER: (confidently) I wouldn't let her.

LYDA: The bodies under the floor-- maybe that was just some kind
of Jungian symbolism. Or maybe... there's a secret lovers' pact.

MULDER: (sighing with a smile) We're not lovers.

LYDA: And this isn't a pure science. But you're both so attractive and
there'll be a lot of time to work that out. (holds a gun out to him)
Go ahead, take it.

(MULDER quickly checks his holster and finds that the gun is missing)

LYDA: Take it. Think of it as the last Christmas you'll ever spend alone.

MULDER: (maniacal) It's me or you... You or me. One of us has to do it.

SCULLY: Mulder, look... We don't have to do this.

MULDER: Oh, yes, we do.

SCULLY: We can get out of here.

MULDER: Even if we could what's waiting for us? More loneliness!
And then 365 more shopping days till even more loneliness!

SCULLY: I don't believe what you're saying! Mulder, I don't believe a
word of it.

(MULDER lowers the angle of the gun and fires. SCULLY drops her gun
and stares down in shock at the bullet wound in her abdomen. She looks
back up at MULDER who is biting his lower lip as if in pain himself, but
still has a wild look in his eyes. Slowly she falls to the floor, still staring
up at him.)

MULDER: Merry Christmas, Scully.

(MULDER raises the gun to his own temple.
Camera angle changes, showing us that is not MULDER, but LYDA.)

LYDA: And a happy New Year.

(MAURICE walks over and restrains MULDER/LYDA from firing the gun.)

MULDER/LYDA: Let me go!

(Camera angle changes. We see again that it is LYDA.
SCULLY still sees MULDER.)

LYDA: Let me go!

SCULLY: Mulder!

LYDA: Let me go... Let me go...

MULDER/LYDA: Let me go!

MULDER: Scully!

(CUT TO: MULDER entering another version of the library.
SCULLY lies bleeding on the floor. He runs to her side.)

MULDER: Scully?

SCULLY: (weak) Mulder... Is that you?

MULDER: What did you do?

SCULLY: I didn't believe it, Mulder.

MULDER: You didn't believe what?

SCULLY: I didn't believe that you'd do it... That I would...

(MULDER looks down and sees that she has raised her gun to his chest.)

SCULLY: Merry Christmas, Mulder.

MULDER: (not pulling away) What are you doing?

(She fires the gun. MULDER, in shock falls back bleeding from the chest.)

(He pulls SCULLY to her feet and holds out her bloody shirt. She looks
down, then they both run out the now unlocked front door. Once outside,
they look down at their now clean shirts, then run to their cars and drive
off quickly.)

Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more
Through the years, we all will be together
If the fates allow
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough
And have yourself a merry... little Christmas now.

(Inside, clock begins striking twelve. MAURICE and LYDA are sitting
in the library.)

LYDA: You hear that? It's Christmas.

MAURICE: One for the books.

LYDA: We almost had those two, didn't we?

MAURICE: ( chuckling ) Almost had them.

LYDA: Two such lonely souls.

MAURICE: We can't let our failures haunt us.

LYDA: You wonder what they were really out here looking for.

MAURICE: Hard to say. People now... This is just another joyless day
of the year.

LYDA: Not for us.

MAURICE: No. We haven't forgotten the meaning of Christmas.

(They hold hands and fade away as the clock strikes twelve.)

(MULDER's apartment. Later that morning, but still dark outside.
MULDER, still dressed in his jacket, is on his couch watching a black
and white version of A Christmas Carol. He looks rather depressed.)

TV SCROOGE: (laughing) I don't deserve to be so happy.
I can't help it. I just can't help it.

TV NARRATOR: Scrooge was better than his word. ( knocking )
He became as good a friend, as good a master and as good a man as
the good old city ever knew or any other good old city, town or borough
in the good old world. And to Tiny Tim...

(There is a knocking sound. He looks up first, then realizes it is his door.
He looks around the corner of the wall, then shuts off the TV and opens
the door. It is SCULLY, also still dressed.)

MULDER: Now, um... I know we said that we weren't going to exchange
gifts but, uh... I got you... a little something.

(With a shy smile, he holds out a small wrapped tubular present -
about the size of a short paper towel roll insert.)

SCULLY: Mulder...

MULDER: Merry Christmas.

SCULLY: Well, I got you a little something, too.

(Embarrassed she holds out a small rectangular wrapped gift - size of a
small book. TD NOTE: Or a video. He chuckles as they take each other's
presents. He shakes his, and she grins happily, then like kids they run
over to the couch and begin opening their gifts as the camera pans away
outside the window through the falling snow.)